The Continuing Legacies: Jordan Black
by Angelina Johnson
Summary: New series, please read.
1. 'Are you the murderer's daughter?'

Jordan Black  
  


My name is Jordan. Jordan Black.  
  
"Are you the murderer's daughter?" That is a a question people ask me every single day.  
  
Don't you people read the papers?  
  
"If you mean Sirius, no."  
"Oh. So you're not his daughter?"  
"No, I'm his daughter, it's the murderer part you've got wrong."  
  
Gayfers. Mom tells me to ignore them. Dad says curse 'em.  
  
"Face it, kid, he just got luckily charged wrong."  
I'm with Dad.  
  
"Jordan, how many times have I told you not to curse people? You're grounded."  
  
Maybe I'd better stick with Mom.  
  
"Jordie, I think it's time you were told your......" Dad began.  
"Our story," Mom said.  
  
This'll be cool.  
  
"Jordie, you remember Aunt Morgan, don't you?"  
"Yes."  
  
Duh.  
  
"And Cassie and Karen?"  
"Of course, mom."  
  
Double duh.  
  
"We never mentioned Uncle Peter, now did we?" Dad frowned at Mom's words.  
  
Frown is an understatement.  
  
"Pete's a git. There's nothing wrong with your twin, Melissa (or maybe there is if she was dumb enough to fall in love with Pettigrew), but those kids of theirs, I just don't trust them."  
  
Doesn't trust them? Why?  
  
"Oh, Sirius, don't be like that. Just because they're Pete's kids doesn't make them..........."  
  
Another thing: Who's Pete?  
  
"Liss, you know what he did!"  
"But Sirius, honestly, that's no reason......"  
"It's a damn good reason!"  
"It is not! I think you're being terribly unfair; they can't help who their father is!"  
"Maybe not, but there's a good chance they could turn out like him!"  
"Oh, really, that's just silly! Morgan'll keep them.........."  
"MOM! DAD!" Mom and Dad both stared at me. They had forgotten I was in the room, probably.   
"Right. The story. You know I was accused of murder, but do you know why?"  
  
Of course not. How am I supposed to know if you never told me?  
  
"Well, you see........." But then the phone rang. Dad wiped the sweat from his forehead and Mom's tense expression turned into a small smile.  
  
Man!  
  
"Sure." Great. One phone call later I was on my way to the Potter's while Mom and Dad went to visit some friends.  
"Who are you going to see?"  
"Remus and Minerva."  
  
Oh. Man, I wanted to hear my story.  
  
"You still don't know? Oh, who cares what my dad says, Jordie, _I'm _telling you!" Jessica Potter said.  
  
Yes! Thank you, Jess!  
  
"Your dad was part of a little clique, sort of. Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew."  
  
That name. Pettigrew. I know I've heard it. I swear it.  
  
"After Hogwarts, James married Lily. Voldemort was after them, and they knew it. They had a one year old sone at this point, Harry. They performed the Fidelius Charm, a charm where they go into hiding. It requires a person called a Secret Keeper. The Secret Keeper keeps their location a secret. The Potters' Secret Keeper was going to be your dad, but everyone knew, so they switched to Peter Pettigrew secretly."  
  
Hate. Rage. Kill. And in the middle, there's Pettigrew.  
  
"Pettigrew turned them over to Voldemort, who came and killed them. Your dad went Pettigrew, who blew up the street when your dad cornered him, killed 12 Muggles with one curse, transformed into a rat, and escaped. Your dad got blamed."  
"But he got off the hook, right?"  
"After 12 years in prison and 3 years on the run."  
  
15 years of someones life were wasted because of some git. That is sad. So sad.  
Now I know my story.  
I am Jordan Black. Through me, the legacy lives on.  
  
A/N: Sorry, new series. I wrote this at camp one BORING rest hour when I was pondering on this person I really looked up to, who, ironically, is named Jordan, and I wanted a story character named after her, and since Sirius Black is my favorite character, she was christened Jordan Black and a series was born.


	2. Hogwarts and Harry's History

Jordan Black  
Part 2  
  


When I came down to breakfast the next morning, dad was sitting at the table. An envolope addressed in green ink lay on the table, and it was addressed to.......... To me! I picked it up, and turned it over, fingers trembling. There was a H, surrounded by an eagle, a badger, a lion, and a snake.  
  
Hogwarts!  
  
Mom walked into the kitchen just then. Dad was beaming. Mom looked at the envelope, and frowned.  
I pulled out the paper, and read:  
Dear Miss Black,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  
"Can I go?" I asked.  
"Of course," Dad said.  
"I don't think it's a good idea, Sirius," Mom said.  
  
No! Dumb mom!  
  
"Why not? Our daughter, not go to Hogwarts? That's just like saying that Harry's kids aren't going to go, it's ridiculous!"  
"You've seen how people treat her, just on the streets, because of you! Why should it be any different there, with people like the Malfoys, and the Crabbes, and the Goyles, who come from a long line of Death Eaters? They'll know the truth, but they'll torture her just the same!"  
"It's stupid! Where else will she learn magic? I say she goes!"  
"I say she doen't!"  
  
Uh-oh. Another fight.  
  
"DOES ANYONE CARE WHAT I THINK?" I yelled. Mom and Dad seemed to have forgotten I was there again.  
"Of course, Jordan," Mom said.  
"Well, I want to go."  
"Sounds fine to me," Dad said.  
"Oh......... Oh, all right!"  
  
Yippee! I get to go to Hogwarts!  
  
Mom was still grumbling about the fact that she wasn't sure I should go to Hogwarts when we went to the Potters later that afternoon, but I didn't care. All I cared about was that I got to go to Hogwarts. I had brought my letter along with me wherever I went ("You're completely nutters, girl," Jessica had said). The two of us were reading the letter when I noticed the part that I had so convieniently missed before: the page with my book list, the one that said: PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT PERMITTED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.  
  
Bummer!  
  
"Oh, man! So you can't take your HotStreak300?"  
"Nope! And we can't play Quidditch either, not on the House Teams."  
  
Bust!  
  
"I was on the Quidditch team my first year," Harry Potter told Jordan when she and Jessica came down for dinner.  
"How? You were only a first year, and they aren't allowed to play."  
"Ah, well, um, special allowances were made for myself."  
  
CHEAP!  
  
"How come?" Jess asked.  
"They were in need of a Seeker, and, well, let's just say I owe it all to Draco Malfoy." Hermione burst out laughing.  
  
Huh?  
  
I must have had a puzzled look on my face, and Jess must have too, because Harry said, "You two know who the Malfoy's are, don't you?" We nodded.  
"Well, Draco is our age, and we've always beem enemies. At our first flying practice, Neville broke his arm, and Madam Hooch told no one to leave the ground while she took him to the hospital wing. Well, of course Draco took the Remembrall Neville had dropped, and when I tried to take it, he flew up in the air. Then he dropped it, and I dived, caught it in front of McGonagall, who had arrived in time to witness the scene, and she took me to the team captain, and BAM! I was the new Seeker."  
  
Lucky!  
  
We ate dinner, all of us in deep conversation, Mom, Dad, Harry and Hermione telling us tales of when they were at Hogwarts. Jess and I laughed, oohed and aahed, and applauded at all the right times. Mom, Dad and I left later that night, me feeling even more excited, if possible, about going to Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. 'Gabafreak'

Jordan Black  
Part 3  
  


September first seemed ages away, but soon enough it was just around the corner. I was majorly psyched.  
  
Majorly is an understatement.  
  
Mom, Dad, and Jessica, of all people, were there with me at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. We hadn't had any difficulties that morning with getting there. No suprises, no nothing.  
  
Okay, I lied.  
  
There was a huge rainstorm in the middle of the night. I heard something creaking downstairs, and I tiptoed down the stairs to see what it was. It was just our cat, Spooky. But then there was a crash at the door. I jumped, and screamed. The door pushed open. I peeked around the corner and looked out. There was a yellow clad person in the doorframe. A flash of lightning illuminated it, and it cast a shadow across the room. I was frozen to the spot. But then the figure pushed back her hood, and I saw black hair sticking up in all directions.  
"Jessica?" I whispered, "What are you doing here?"   
"I wanted to come with you to King's Cross. I'm sorry if I'm a little early."   
"Do your parents know you're here?"  
"My parents told me to come here if I got lonely, aggrivated, bored, lonely, ect., ect. They're out of town for the weekend, and Albus, Sirius, and Liss are with the Weasleys. They wanted to escape the Dursleys, too, and the Dursleys were pleased to get rid of us. Dudley, his wife, and kids are morons."  
"You scared me."   
"I'm sorry."  
  
Seeing Jess was a big relief. Boy, she had me scared there for a minute.  
  
"Aren't you cold?" I asked her. She was, of course, sopping wet.  
"Yes." So I ran her a hot bath and found her a pair of clean clothes to wear for the night. A half an hour later I was laying on the top bunk of my bed, Jessica on the bottom. It was three-forty-five in the morning, but I wasn't tired.   
"Jordan?" Jessica had said.  
"Yes?" I replied.  
"Are you tired?"  
"No, you?"  
"Not really." So she climbed up on the top bunk, and we sat cross-legged, talking the rest of the night away. After all, we were best friends, and I wasn't going to see her again until next summer, maybe Christmas.  
"I'm going to miss you so much, Jordan."  
"At least all your other friends will still be around. I have to make totally new friends. How do you think I feel?"  
  
And it was the truth. I hadn't thought about it until then, but it was going to be hard to make new friends and adjust to a new environment.  
  
"Mom!" I yelled, "Dad!" It was six o'clock, and they were still asleep.  
"Jordy?"  
"It's six o'clock, sweetie, go back to sleep."  
"Guess who showed up in the middle of last night?" I called in a singsong voice.  
"Who?" dad groaned.  
"Jessica."  
"Jessica's here?"  
"That's nice, dear," mom added sleepily. I jumped on their bed and shook them around, bouncing and giggling. Dad started tickling me. Of course, then Jess walked in. She looked sleepy, and she was rubbing her head.  
"Hello, Jessica. What brings you here?" So Jess again told the story.  
  
King's Cross, here I come!  
  
As I walked into King's Cross, Mom, Dad, and Jess at my side, I again felt nervous. New friends, new environment, no Jess............ It was a weird feeling.  
I boarded the train after giving Mom and Dad one last hug each. I waved until the train had pulled fully away from the station and Mom, Dad and Jess were out of sight.  
  
And now I was more scared than ever.  
  
I was in a compartment with three other first years, Virginia O'Connell, Amelia Yong, and Ryan O'Casey. I took an instant liking to Virginia, or Gin, as she insisted I call her. Ryan was someone I didn't know what the heck to think about. Amelia seemed to take an instant disliking to me.  
"Black? As in Sirius Black?"  
"Yes." Amelia rolled her eyes in disgust.  
The compartment door slid open, and a short, curly-haired brunette slid through. She saw Amelia and frowned.  
"Hello, Gabafreak," Amelia said, "Come to bug us with your worms? Or dragons? Any new magical freaktures to show us?"  
The girl bit her lip, and turned away. Amelia flounced into the compartment the curly-haired girl had come from. The girl looked ready to cry. She was about to leave. I reached out to grab her arm, to get her to stay, but all I got was air.  
  
Because my hand went right through her.  



	4. The Truth About Gabby Bernstein

Jordan Black  
Part 4  
  


A/N: First of all, I'd like to clear things up. Jordan is a year older than Jessica and her other friends.  
  
"Jordan? Are you okay?" Virginia asked. I was gaping after the girl, slightly startled.  
  
Okay. So I was horrified. I mean, my hand had gone right through the girl.  
  
"What's wrong? Jordan?"  
  
Pardon? Am I spacing out? Well, DUH! I just touched a ghost.  
  
"I'm okay, honest."  
"What was wrong?"  
"Nothing. I'll be right back."  
  
I was going to find this girl. Now.  
  
I found Gabby in the very last car, all alone.  
"Hi," I said, "I'm Jordan."  
"I'm Gabby, the freak," she said sadly.  
"What makes you say that? Just because people's hands went through you................"  
"What? You must have just grabbed air and thought..........."  
  
She was freaking out.  
  
"I saw my hand go through you, Gabby. Can't say I' hallucinating, can you?"  
"No. Whatever you saw, it was wrong. Your eyes were playing tricks on you, or something, because you're wrong."  
  
Touchy, ain't she?  
  
"Whatever. Don't get so protective. It makes people think you've got something to hide from them."  
"It's because I do."  
The pretty girl with the curly hair shocked me with her words.  
"I'm a freak of nature. Amelia is right. And your hand? Yeah, it did go through me. I'm only half alive."  
  
O-kay. That was a disturbing statement.  
  
"But why? I mean, how? Is it possible to be only half alive?"  
"Yes, it is, because I am. I'm more than one in a million. Someone like me comes along every three thousand or so years. We're special, sent in times of great need. But I don't feel special. I feel miserable. Sometimes I'm solid, sometimes I'm air. And I hate it. I HATE IT! And I can never die. If I make friends, which will never happen, I'll see them die, and it's just awful. I have to live in misery for eternity. Do you know how awful that will be? Living FOREVER. That's a long time. It may not seem like it. Everyone thinks they want to live that long, but they'd hate it."  
  
I wanted to cry. I felt sooooooo bad for her.  
  
"Can you ever be _fully_ alive?"  
"Yes, by a true friend. But it would be a great sacrifice for them. They'd have to give up a part of themself, their happiest memory, to give me something to live off of. And who would do that for a loser like me?"  
Before I knew what I was doing, I said, "I would."  
"But why? All the others hate me."  
"But I'm not like the others."  
  
  


  
  



End file.
